


Ares' Secret

by odiko_ptino



Series: Featured Character: Ares [2]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Colchis, Gen, M/M, The Rest Are SPOILERS, Thebes, that's all I'll say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 19:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17028801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odiko_ptino/pseuds/odiko_ptino
Summary: Hermes suspects Ares is up to something.





	Ares' Secret

The change is subtle; it’s not as though Ares was ever a particularly open or approachable sort of god. Quite the contrary, in fact: if you’d asked any of the regular inhabitants or visitors of Olympus whether it was unusual for Ares to be surly or to answer any greetings or polite conversation with a rude shut-down, you’d get immediate affirmation from  _everyone_  that things were proceeding as usual for the belligerent god.  Even the god’s (very) short list of friends –Hermes, Artemis and Aphrodite – would probably agree.

But there’s something different about this.

It finally comes together for Hermes after a few days of this.  He’s out fooling around in the lesser courtyard behind the palatial halls of Olympus, and observes Ares as he’s returning with the corpse of a huge, ancient boar across his shoulders, tusks as long as the god’s arms – doubtless the result of a battle fought somewhere in the foothills, Ares’ usual hobby. Ares is mighty even by the standards of a god, and he’s still staggering under the weight of this thing that he’s dragging around with him, trailing blood as he heaves up the last few yards to the back door to his stables (made of stone to accommodate Ares’ fiery steeds where they stay when not burning the back pastures).

The facts:

1)      If this was any other god you might think this boar could be a respectful sacrifice to Zeus. But it’s Ares, so no.

2)      If he was going to eat it, he’d make servants drag it up the mountain.

3)      If it’s the corpse of a former rival, transformed into a beast and then killed (there’s precedent for that), Ares would have left it where it lay.

4)      Ares isn’t usually interested in loot or treasure – once the battle is over, he checks out.  Unlikely he’d keep a souvenir of this battle if he never did for the giants Echidnades or Mimon.  Maybe he thinks a lover would be impressed by this one?  Must be a new one; Aphrodite has delicately let him know that she prefers jewelry over carcasses.  If so, it’s definitely worth teasing him about.

Hermes makes his conclusions and pops up next to Ares with a grin on his face.

“Heeeeeeey, Ares! Buddy!  What’re you up to?”  Hermes floats alongside Ares, head tilted over to better peer at the staggering god.

Ares stumbles, startled, and curses before turning to level a truly impressive scowl at Hermes.

“What the hell do you care, Shortass?  Fuck off!”

“That’s a whole lotta pig you got there!”  Hermes makes a big show of examining it from all angles, hovering annoyingly close to Ares, who’s steaming already and trying to keep his eye on Hermes.  “Got anything fun in mind?  Are we having a barbecue at Ares’ place tonight?”

“No!  It’s not for you!”  Ares snarls, maneuvering himself and the boar with difficulty to aim a kick in Hermes’ direction.

Hermes dodges easily, drifting in closer and beaming.  “So, is it for someone else?  A gift, maybe?  For someone special?”  

Ares’ scowl deepens even as his face reddens – which could equally be a sign of embarrassment or rage or both, but Hermes isn’t worried either way.  His own grin broadens and he claps his hands to his face in a theatrical expression of delight.

“It  _is_!  Why, Ares! What a thoughtful guy you are – and who’s the lucky one who’s getting such a lovely gift?” Hermes teases, poking Ares’ cheeks playfully and laughing at the face he makes.

“None of your business, brat!  Eat shit and fuck  _off_!”

Hermes clucks his tongue. “Aww, but Ares, anyone that special to you is someone I want to meet – unless I’ve already met them before?”  He puts his chin in his hands, reclining backwards in the air and pretending to consider it.

But, interestingly, Ares doesn’t give the expected reaction.  

Hermes is expecting intensified scowls, barking insults, the usual signs of Ares’ version of squirming in embarrassment.  But instead, the god grits his teeth, looking determined.  

Hermes’ eyebrows lift quizzically at Ares, and he taps a finger to his chin thoughtfully.  “So, it  _isn’t_  someone I’ve met.  Someone new?”

“I told you to mind your own business, you nosy little shit!” Ares growls, kicking the door to his stables and immediately shoving the pig through.

There’s a noise within – his horses?  Perhaps, but Hermes has heard many horses before, and this sounds… raspier…

Ares quickly spins around, shutting the door nearly all the way to prevent Hermes from peeking inside.

“And you better not come back here!  Stay  _OUT_!”  

The door slams shut the rest of the way.

Hermes stays where he is for a moment, floating gently and tapping his chin, before allowing the breeze to catch him and drift him up, back towards the palace proper.

What’s different? Ares always tells Hermes, and everyone else, to fuck off.  He’s belligerent and loves a fight.  But he doesn’t hide, doesn’t fend people off, he engages.  

Once Hermes realizes that this is the difference, it seems incredibly obvious.  

Ordinarily, if asked what he’s been up to, Ares might reply with a gruff “out fighting,” or occasionally, “out fucking.”  When he has a disagreement with someone, it’s out in the open.  He absolutely never bothers to hide or justify his actions.  Ares charges ahead with his life, aggressive and confident in everything he does.  

But this time, he’s being  _secretive_.

And now Hermes’ curiosity is piqued.

Especially when he sees that Ares’ horses are currently leaving burning hoofprints behind them as they wander the paddock that winds behind the palace grounds.  So, confirmed, whatever made the noise inside the stables, it wasn’t them.

There are other curious things: strange new scars start turning up on Ares, and his clothes and hair are frequently singed.  Artemis mentions in passing that when she was sparring with him recently, she noticed that a new tattoo had appeared on his skin.  She had assumed the new sinuous flames related to “the flames of war” and teased him about how they brought out his eyes.  Hermes snickers but thinks, Ares has been the god of war for a while. Most of the gods rarely get new markings after they’ve been settled in their roles.  Why would the tattoo only show up now?

For several weeks, Ares can be seen sneaking away from Hestia’s Hearth carrying armloads of the snacks away – meat, mostly, Hermes observes, but also eggs and honey and really it’s the quantity that’s odd.  He mentions it off-handedly to Athena,  _there goes Ares with some snacks I guess, wonder why?_   Her only response is to sniff and say they should all be grateful to be spared his appalling table manners.

At a routine and boring council, Demeter mentions that she received Ares’ request for more increased grain to be delivered to his stables.  

Hermes’ curiosity is starting to drive him mad, especially since Ares is normally  _so bad_  at keeping secrets.  Discretion is not his specialty.  And teasing him – which, when used as a form of interrogation, is normally a foregone conclusion – is only getting tight-lipped scowls in response.

Hermes asks Aphrodite. Often, if Ares is out of sorts, it’s because Aphrodite has taken another new lover.  But Aphrodite only shakes her head.

“I’m taking some time off from looking afield for new lovers.  Actually, Ares and I were together just the other day…” she trails off, looking reflectively into the distance.  “…He may not be much for pretty speech, but he has a silver tongue nonetheless, let me tell you.”

Hermes laughs and groans at the same time.  “Well, great! Good to know he’s not a one-trick pony.”

She smirks at him; they routinely swap dirty and embarrassing stories about Ares, both to give each other ammunition to tease him and more things to endear him to them. “More of a stallion than a pony, but yes, the other night was at least three or four tricks in the first hour alone.”

“That stud.  Such passion.  Does he start crying in the heat of the moment?”

“No, no tears, but he curses… oh, but you know, ‘heat of the moment’ makes me think… you’ve seen his new flame markings, right?  First of all, if you haven’t had a new marking in a while, it’s apparently pretty sensitive skin there, and as it happens, the flame markings go all the way down to –”

Aphrodite goes on, explaining, while they both crack up laughing, and yeah, Hermes is absolutely gonna make a note of this information.

Later, he’s back on the case.  He asks Helios, the “eye in the sky” who sees everything his sun touches.

Helios’ response is perhaps not unexpected: “Fuck you, you little pot-stirring shit, I’m not getting involved in that guy’s crap ever again.”

“Aww, come on, Helios, everyone got over it eventually…”

“Nope.  You can fuck right off.  Never again.  You fuckers can’t handle the truth.”  Helios leans back in his chariot thoughtfully, before his scowl turns into a grin abruptly.  “You can ask Selene, maybe.  She sees everything her moon touches.”

Helios sometimes enjoys referring the younger gods to his sister – although she has been faithful to her beloved Endymion, she does like to work up her appetite by winding up her visitors.  The three Titans find it very entertaining to set off the younger gods, to say nothing of the mortals.

Hermes does visit Selene, but only because he knows that the insatiable goddess has recently been to visit Endymion, so Hermes’ balls should be safe this time.  

“Ahh, yes, Ares and his nighttime excursions.  Many evenings of entertainment to be seen there.”  Hermes amuses himself by imagining Ares’ reaction to the small, knowing smile on Selene’s pretty face, if he could see it.  

Hermes bows respectfully. “I’m certain of that.  Ares’ daylight excursions are quite entertaining as well.  I’ll never understand why most of Olympus doesn’t see it.”  

“Well, I do have the advantage of watching the show from far above… miles away from his notorious rages. And you have the advantage of never being troubled by anything, ever.”

That’s not true by a long shot, but Hermes doesn’t show his cards as swiftly as the other gods.  “I just think he’s funny.”

Selene nods thoughtfully. “To answer your question, little herald, your amusing friend has spent more time than usual at his stronghold on Thrace.  Not outdoors, where I can see him, but he rushes from one closed building to the next.”

Thrace’s war palace is one of only two temples dedicated to Ares in all of Greece.  Its people are warlike and considered savage and unpleasant by the majority of the gods, so they do not often visit if they don’t absolutely have to.

Hermes visits there the next day and scouts around.  He spots Demeter’s grain… piled around messily by a barred stone building behind the main temple where Ares resides when he’s there.  Some of it has spilled out onto the ground; the mice must be loving that.  The roar of Ares’ flaming steeds, approaching from the sky in the distance, interrupts Hermes from picking the lock to get in, but not before he could hear some very mysterious animal sounds from within.

He fully plans to go back, but he needs a way to keep Ares occupied.  Artemis, perhaps, she can keep him busy with sparring.  So Hermes goes to Apollo, currently the only one who knows the location of Artemis’ secret grove.  Well, actually, Hermes  _does_  know – it’s part of his job to know, in case Zeus needs to deliver a message to her, or summon her directly.  But for as long as that hasn’t happened yet, Hermes would rather let her have her secret grove and go through Apollo when he wishes to speak to her.  

Apollo is seated on a bench in his courtyard.  Apollo’s halls are, as one might expect, incredibly tasteful and elegant.  He generally keeps musicians and beautiful objects (or people) around more or less perpetually for the ambiance.  Today the ambiance staff has been dismissed, to allow Apollo to play at the lyre himself in solitude as he watches birds flit around a fountain splashing water nearby.

Hermes sets down lightly before him, offering a cheeky bow to his senior.  “My Lord Apollo.  The radiance of the sun dazzles the eyes as always.  The sweet tumble of music from your elegant throat fills the ears with joy. The scent of your perfume tickles the nose.  An hour spent in your presence is like a thousand years in paradise.”

“Enough with the flattery, Hermes Dolios.”  Apollo uses the title that refers to Hermes’ domain of wiles and craftiness, but he sounds amused, and Hermes notes that he waited until Hermes was done paying him compliments.  “What are you after today?  I’m not sure I’m interested in losing another bet you’ll cheat to win.”  Apollo idly plucks a few chords on the lyre.  Hermes allows his eyes to linger on the long fingers for a moment before turning back to Apollo’s face with a wink.

“I’m not always out to cheat people, Apollo!”  Hermes shifts to informality easily, sauntering closer.  “Maybe I just want to hang out with my respected senior for a while.  Listen to you sing a song.”  He positions himself suggestively close to Apollo’s lap.  “Get a quickie from a pro?”

Apollo laughs, and poetic embellishment aside, it really is like watching the sun come out from behind the clouds.  “You phrased that like a question.  Are you the pro offering, or is that supposed to be me?”

Hermes grins wickedly. “Could be either, or both at the same time – oof!”

Apollo has delivered a solid kick to Hermes’ midsection, sending him tumbling backwards through the air. Hermes rights himself and floats back with a pout in place.

“I’ll consider it – if you tell me what you’re really here for,” Apollo smiles at him mildly.

Hermes gives an exaggerated sigh and flops down on the bench next to him.  “I actually came here to ask if you could get Artemis for me.  I need her to keep Ares occupied – and it’s been a while since she kicked the crap out of him, I’m sure she’d be eager.”

Apollo snorts.  “I’m sure she would too.  I’m sure beating Ares is quite therapeutic.”  Apollo speaks dismissively of the war god, but Hermes has noticed that he hasn’t been as cruel anymore as he used to be.  The Aloadai had come to claim Artemis, after all, and Ares was captured and imprisoned trying to defeat them.  As much as Apollo may find Ares unlikable, it’s impossible for him to be the enemy of a god who suffered so much in the defense of Apollo’s sister.

Hermes taps his fingers lightly against Apollo’s leg.  “You could even skip that step if you were willing to tell me what he’s up to?  You know, using your twisty turny prophetic ability?”  He wiggles his fingers in the direction of Apollo’s temple.  

Apollo catches his wrist before his hair can be mussed.  “My ‘twisty turny’ prophecies are not the same as omniscience.  If I wanted to know what Ares is up to – which I don’t, particularly – I would have to go to a great deal of effort to see it.”

Hermes catches sight of some movement, just over Apollo’s shoulder, and hides a smile.  “You aren’t curious?  I just get the feeling that he might be up to something.  Like he’s being sneaky.”

“Normally I get a sense that something warrants my attention and effort, if it’s sufficiently large-scale or directly relates to me.  Ares apparently isn’t doing anything huge at present or, luckily, anything to indicate his path will cross with mine anytime soon.  So, no.  Whatever you’re up to, you’re on your own.  Though I will visit Artemis later, if you like.”  

Apollo shifts, turning slightly on the bench, and Hermes quickly zips in front of him to catch his attention again.  “I sure appreciate it, Lord Apollo.  But now that business is concluded…. How about a kiss goodbye?” He gives an exaggerated suggestive wink, a winning smile and a lewd gesture with his hands.

Apollo strums the strings of the lyre thoughtfully before setting it down.  “I suppose I can give you the privilege.  And perhaps you can use this as an opportunity to impress me.”

Afterwards, when they’ve had their fun and Apollo has finally sent him on his way, Hermes takes a moment to drink in the irony of Apollo’s previous statement, about how his path doesn’t intersect with Ares, before he speeds off through the air in the direction of Ares, who is currently still making his way down the side of the mountain with one of Apollo’s cows tied to his back.  Neither Ares nor the cow looks happy about their situation.  

“I guess this counts as you not crossing paths with Apollo, right?  What he don’t know, won’t hurt him?”  He taps his chin thoughtfully, watching the struggle down the mountainside. “That’s good sense, only stealing one cow.  I overreached, stealing the whole herd.  That’s how I got caught.  You’ll probably be fine, though.”

Ares’ scowl is practically weaponized.  Hermes wonders if the red on the god’s face is a warning sign of rage or a cute little blush – hard to tell, with Ares.  “You were really gonna do that, right in fucking front of me.  While I was standing right there, you were gonna deep-throat him.”

“We did a swap, actually,” Hermes says brightly.  “And all as a favor to you!  Here you are, almost escaped, and no one the wiser that Apollo’s got one less cow than he had a half hour ago.”

“You better not tell anyone-!” Ares starts to growl, but Hermes cuts him off by placing his hands on Ares’ cheeks, squishing them together to make a funny fish face.

“Obviously I’m not gonna tell anyone, dumbass.  But seriously.  Whatever you’re doing, you’re gonna get caught soon if you’re not careful.  Why don’t you let me help out?  I’m  _much_  better at sneaky shit than you are.”

It’s testament to how the past few months have been straining at Ares that he doesn’t immediately bat Hermes’ hands away.  He stares at Hermes for what must be a full ten seconds in silence, fish-faced, before pulling back and looking away.  “I don’t – this isn’t your concern – ” he forces out, and Hermes puts out his tongue to make a rude noise at him.

“C’mon, dipshit! We’re buddies!  When have I let you down before?”

Ares drags his eyes back to Hermes, briefly pausing to thump the cow on the flank as it moos in annoyance. “I could get in trouble for this. I’m not sure but it’s a possibility. Like,  _real_  trouble, maybe.  And you’d get in trouble too, and it won’t be as cute as the other times because you’d be associated with me.”  

Hermes hates that this is true.  Ares speaks plainly and flatly, no matter how bad the situation.  His inability to sugarcoat when he talks has bolstered his reputation for cruelty, but there’s nothing worse than when he turns that truth on himself and bears it without flinching.

But Hermes is confident in his own abilities.  Ares might fear that associating with the war god will make a situation worse; but Hermes believes that this whole situation being associated with the charming messenger god will make it easier on Ares.   _If_ they even get caught.  Hermes Dolios knows what he’s doing.

So he kisses the tips of his first and second fingers, presses them to Ares’ nose, and beams at him. “I don’t give a shit.  Let’s do this!”  And he flips up through the air, over Ares’ head, to land on the back of the cow on his shoulders.  “Alala!” he cheers, using Ares’ preferred battle-cry.

Below him, Ares is still a moment longer, before the god finally begins to plod forward again. “Wasn’t even sure you were sitting up there.  Skinny-ass, you barely weigh anything,” he mutters.  

Their conversation for the rest of the journey to Thrace is much more of a return to how it used to be: Hermes tells jokes and stories and sings songs with ridiculous or lewd lyrics, and laughs at the grouchy curses he receives in return.  He’s delighted when Ares actually stumbles, laughing in spite of himself, at a particularly well-timed punchline about Athena’s musical talents.  

Behind the temple in Thrace, Ares ties the cow to stake.  Hermes nimbly seats himself atop Ares’ shoulders directly now, and notes how tense they are.  The guy needs a good massage  _immediately_.  They go to the stable door and Ares unlocks it, but hesitates before opening it.  The mysterious noises are louder now, and the grain is still strewn about randomly.  Hermes is dying to see what’s inside, but it seems like Ares has one final admonition for him.

“You have  _got_  to keep your mouth shut about this. Especially to your stupid boyfriend Apollo.  That pretty asshole is gonna-”

“You’ve totally got a crush on him, don’t you?” Hermes inquires innocently, just to see Ares blink, mouth opening and then snapping shut, too bewildered to even get angry or embarrassed.  

Hermes takes advantage of his indecisiveness to jump off Ares’ shoulders and shove his way past him, through the door, ignoring Ares’ attempted grab.  “Speaking of Apollo, enough with the lectures!  I’m on the team already!  What chthonic mystery are you keeping – oh!”

Whatever he was expecting, Hermes somehow both is, and is not surprised at all, to see the secret revealed:  Two dragons, about four feet long, are currently climbing about on the support posts and ceiling beams of the stable’s interior, and both make excited squawking noises when they see Ares.  Moving quickly, they make their way down as Ares rushes inside and shuts the door swiftly behind him.

The dragons are objectively beautiful creatures, in spite of the clear promise of what terrible beings they will be in the future.  Their bodies are long and sinuous, with tiny useless-looking limbs (six of them) that resemble a bird’s talons.  Their scales shimmer and color seems to ripple through them, though always in shades of green.  One appears to have golden highlights; the other has silver.  Upon their backs are tiny little glowing spikes that run down the length of their spines.  The buds of their wings are forming, three sets placed at each set of shoulders, and their heads resemble nothing so much as a wolf.  Their teeth and claws, tiny though they are, definitely appear sharp – this is confirmed when they start climbing up Ares, leaving scratches and nicks as they nip at him affectionately.  

“Found ‘em near Mount Parnassus.  Dunno if they’re the offspring of Python or not – they seem too young,” Ares says, watching Hermes uneasily, ignoring the way the dragons are leaving claw marks on his skin.

Hermes is actually rendered speechless, hands covering his mouth, eyes shining as he watches the dragons start chewing on Ares’ tunic, making excited, rapid  _tuck-tuck-tuck_ noises, interspersed with mild hissing at each other. They adore him, just like loyal hounds, and the ease and familiarity they display as they clamber over Ares tells Hermes that this has been going on for a while.

“Oh, by Hyperion’s glorious balls,” he manages, delight coursing through his voice.  “Oh, this is – this is the  _cutest fucking thing_  I’ve ever seen in my  _life_  - !”

Ares’ face twists back into a scowl with something like relief.  “Look, don’t be an asshole, this is serious!”

“Will you shut up?! Quit being such a sulk!  This is fantastic!  You have little tiny baby dragons and they luuuuuurve yoooouuuu!!!”

“You’re such a –“

“Can I pet them?  Will they burn me?”

“Eh?  Uh, yeah, probably…” Ares’ face flickers between annoyance and confusion, and some other emotion that doesn’t look at home on his face.

“I’ll wait till they’re used to me,”  Hermes watches in fascination as one of the dragons stretches its neck and snaps up a mouse that had been feeding on the loose grain scattered about the place. Aha,  _that’s_  why all the grain!

“Used to you…?”

“Yeah!  I’ll come by a couple times a week, and I’ll bring little treats to get on their good side – I bet it’s just the same as Arty’s hunting dogs! And maybe we can sneak them out somewhere – hmm.  Where was Dionysus born again?  That’s a pretty isolated place.”

Hermes keeps talking without pause, and without acknowledging the awkward noises Ares is making and the way his fists clench and unclench as the dragons wrap themselves around him happily and gnaw his ears, thrumming softly.  They have an advantage over their master, then – Ares still has no idea what to do with happiness, or gratitude, or any other positive emotion.

Before the night is over, Hermes has stolen about two months’ worth of supplies, and gets caught with none of them – not even by Selene, who raises his eyebrows at him as he sneaks a sack into the stables in Thrace.  He winks at her and flashes a pair of Apollo’s sandals which he stole solely to allay suspicion.

And yeah, a distant part of his mind can see this being a problem down the road, but right at this moment… watching the confused, scowly happiness in Ares’ face… the unspeakably adorable way the he loves those dragons, and they adore him…

Hermes generally thinks  _any_  mischief is worth the trouble he might get in, but he thinks he’d happily risk Zeus and Hera’s wrath both for this.


End file.
